


Elia's Queen of Love and Beauty

by roaming



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/F, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-24
Updated: 2012-04-24
Packaged: 2017-11-04 05:50:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,057
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/390455
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roaming/pseuds/roaming
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At Harrenhal, everyone assumed that Lyanna Stark was Rhaegar's chosen Queen of Love and Beauty, but he simply chose her on someone else's behalf -- his other Queen's.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Elia's Queen of Love and Beauty

The Princess of Westeros casts her eyes down. The Knight of the Laughing Tree is jousting, but she cannot betray herself and show her true feelings when her husband is sitting right next to her. Yet her heart still flutters, her pulse still quickens, red still creeps onto her cheeks when the patchwork knight effortlessly unseats a much stronger rider. Prince Rhaegar’s mind is too clouded, too dreamy, too far to notice how his wife’s Dornish features ever so slightly curl into delight. She will reward the knight with her own laughter soon.

+

Elia rounds the corner, deep into the woods. The knight is slowly peeling off each piece of armor. Elia relishes in the fact that only she knows this secret hiding place - their secret hiding place. Before any more articles of clothing are removed, Elia places her hands on the ill-fitting chest armor and presses her lips to the steel of the helmet.

_Elia._ A murmur deepened by the echo of the helmet is all she needs to hear. She haphazardly removes the helmet and long, brown curls cascade around the heart-shaped face of her laughing knight. 

Elia presses her lips against Lyanna’s soft pink ones, entangling one of her hands in the Stark’s hair and placing her other hand on her flushed cheek. It is already their third meeting, but Lyanna’s youth and maidenhood still makes her prone to blushing and modesty. After years under Aerys’ scrutiny and abuse, Elia is impervious to both. 

She deepens the kiss, removing the shoulder pads in earnest. She presses her body closer to the armor, hoping to feel any semblance of Lyanna’s flesh against her own. When Lyanna’s shy tongue presses against her mouth, Elia does little to hide her surprise. When her eyebrows return to their normal, unexcited state, she opens her mouth and meets Lyanna’s tongue with her own. Ever so slightly, Elia grazes on the wolf girl’s tongue with her teeth. Soon, Elia can feel the warmness of Dorne throughout her face, on her insides, between her legs.

The Stark is a quick learner and, after shedding the rest of her armor so she is simply dressed in a stable boy’s attire, she lowers her mouth onto Elia’s neck as Elia had done to her after the opening feast. The low moan emitted from the hollow of Elia’s throat tells Lyanna that she is doing well.

Lyanna’s soft pink mouth soon travels down Elia’s fine gown. The expensive fabric is light and if Lyanna focuses, she can see the outline of the princess’s dark nipple. After hovering for a few uncertain moments, she places her mouth over the entire nipple. Elia lets herself moan as Lyanna’s tongue delicately swirls around her breast, dousing the fabric in the process. Lyanna’s other hand is pinching, tugging, rubbing at the princess’ other breast with expert precision. 

Elia’s breathing quickens as Lyanna slowly lowers her to the ground. She doesn’t even begin to think about the fact that she’ll have to comb the leaves out of her hair or that she’ll have to wait until her robes dry before she can see her husband. No, the only thing she can think about is how the Knight of the Laughing Tree is moving the fabric of her robe above her waist, flicking her tongue at the flesh on her thigh, and how her breath is inches away from her womanhood, which is throbbing in anticipation.

When Lyanna finally delves her tongue into her most sensitive body part, Elia bites her lip until she is sure that blood is drawn. Just this once, she will ignore her family’s mantra and remain broken - just this once. Elia’s breath hitches as Lyanna quickens her pace and alternates between licking and sucking on her clit and rubbing her tongue against the very inner crevices of her body. When Elia looks down, she can only see brown hair, matted from the helmet and covered in leaves from the forest’s ground, and the pinkness of Lyanna’s tongue darting in and out of her at merciless speed.

Lyanna's warm fingers soon replace her tongue and she lines Elia’s opening with her middle finger before inserting it deep inside the future Queen as her thumb delicately roams around her clit. _Lyanna_ , is the only thing she allows herself to sigh as her body writhes in pleasure as the Stark daughter holds her in place with her free arm.

A branch is broken. Elia assumes that it must have come from under her protesting body, but when Lyanna removes her hand and guiltily wipes it on her pants whilst leaving Elia raw and exposed on the ground, she knows something is wrong. When the passion of the moment releases her from her lustful daze, she looks behind her.

Rhaegar. Her prince is always so determined and single-minded and sure of his decisions. When Elia sees the confusion, hurt, and uncertainty splayed across his fine patrician features, she is frozen and alarmed. 

After what seems like a million moons, Rhaegar regains his default calm demeanor. His eyes are clouded, but his face remains serenely composed. His regality and nonchalance embarrass Elia, who quickly pushes her robes down over her legs. 

Wordlessly, he walks into their camp. Lyanna stands, as frozen as the icy realm of her ancestors. Without looking at either of them, he picks up Lyanna’s makeshift shield — the finest of all of her equipment. He turns and walks out the way he entered.

With his back to the two noble ladies, he simply says, “The Knight of the Laughing Tree is no longer welcome at Harrenhal. If he returns, my father will have him killed.”

He leaves as Elia and Lyanna stare at each other, incredulous. 

+

The next day, without any trace of malice or anger, Rhaegar places a crown of blue roses in Lyanna Stark’s lap. _The Queen of Love and Beauty._ When the crowd sends horrified looks towards Princess Elia’s direction, they are surprised to note that there is absolutely no emotion on her face. But when Rhaegar returns to his seat beside her, they know that there is a new fission between their future King and Queen.

When no one is paying attention to her — and it takes quite some time — Princess Elia silently thinks to herself, _The Queen of Love and Beauty, indeed._


End file.
